Between Sleep
by Jolis Mots
Summary: Percy was regrettably stuck in a mess he didn't even know he created. And if that wasn't enough, don't even get him started on the nightmares. Annabeth/Percy/Calypso ON HIATUS
1. Of Pranks and Make Out Sessions

****

disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson

**(A/N): You'll probably start out confused. Don't worry. Let it flow :]**

* * *

_"Welcome to my dreamiest nightmare."_

-"The Piano Song" Cursive

* * *

**Chapter I: Of Pranks and Make Out Sessions**

Hilarious. It was going to be just that.

In the medicine supply room, a walk-in closet with shelves that reach the high ceiling, complete with remedies and potions and everything you could imagine for the wellness of mortal, god, and everything in between, Travis Stoll rummages through the supplies on the left side while Connor looked through the ones on the right.

They hear a thump from above them, startling them both, not enough for them to jump, but enough to slow their pace and stare at the ceiling.

"What was that?" Connor asks warily.

"Nothing. Probably imagination," Travis dismisses, continuing to search for what they had gone into the Big House for. _Dietary pills…No…Midol—NO…sleeping herbs, potion ingredients…No…Dragon snout?! What the…_

"Both of ours?" Connor adds skeptically.

"Stop being such a girl. Argus is probably walking around upstairs. Now, _find those laxatives_!"

Connor rolls his eyes and pulls a bottle from the shelf. "Found it!"

"Alright!" Travis congratulates, high fiving his brother. They had been planning to prank the Ares cabin by using the Mythomagic box chest they'd stole from a ten year old Demeter kid. Their prank consisted of them putting laxative pills in it—planning to place it in the armory where Ares kids were most likely to stumble upon the authentic looking treasure chest labeled "Mystical Steroid Pills of the Gods."

Yes, it was going to be divinely funny. The Ares toilets were never going to be the same ever again.

They get ready to leave when they heard the same_ thump _sound from above them, only this time more continuous and gurgling, like some sort of angry, hungry lion was getting poked with a stick.

The Stoll Brothers slowly meet gazes.

Normally, when one hears a freaky noise, they tend to run.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Travis smirks.

The noise overhead continues.

His brother bounces the bottle of laxatives up and down in the air, catching it singlehandedly every time, the identical mischievous smile gracing his lips as well.

"Race you." With two words, the brothers bolt in the direction of the stairs, running straight into curiosity.

* * *

**Later that day**

Apollo had taken the sun down for the day, and by now, Percy had found himself more tired than hungry as dinner rolled around. It had been a long day of training and fighting and capture-the-flag, and the boy was just _exhausted_ beyond repair at the moment. He'd take holding up the sky again than having to go through this day on repeat.

Er. No. Scratch that. Melodramatics.

But anyway, for the most part, he was sleepy—for lack of eloquence.

While everyone had gathered at their tables to feast on tonight's pizza, Percy was on his lone way back to Cabin Three. It's not like he was missing much by skipping a meal tonight anyways. Even with all his friends, the Poseidon table can get lonely.

Not that he was trying to act like a desolate crybaby. Oh gods, no. The boy just wanted to hit the hay.

The moon shone over the camp tonight, the constellations in plain view—improved from what one could see from the city. In the brilliant quiet, past the distance, he could hear the rippling sound of the creek. Perhaps it was only natural. The occasional squirrel would pass, or the giggle of a dryad, and Percy was constantly reminded that he was never alone in this place. Whether that was a good or bad thing was eternally debatable.

He was near the cabin area now, only having to pass trees and rocks from the mess hall, when he heard a flirtatious laugh, low voices, and the occasional bout of silence between—well, he didn't want to finish the thought because soon enough, barely hidden by shadows of pines and elms were two teenagers, so blatantly making out in the middle of the path.

Awkward.

If it wasn't bad enough having to pass by two people necking in the middle of your path, he just _had_ passed the couple in the right amount of moonlight to see stringy hair in a bandanna, the owner's face disappearing into another, taller, more muscular figure.

_What the shit._

He most certainly did _not _want to witness saliva exchanges between Clarisse and Chris right before he went to bed. Good thing Percy skipped that meal because he had the strangest feeling he'd have seen it end up on the ground in front of him in a matter of seconds.

Trying desperately not to be noticed, he ambled as cautiously and casually as possible past the two. And he would've made it too.

If it weren't for that damn (dam) oh, so strategically placed twig that snapped so loudly when the Genius Called Percy stepped on it.

The incessant sound of face sucking stopped.

Oh thank the gods.

The growling voice of Clarisse took its place.

Oh damn it all.

"_Can I help you, Fishface?_"

_Fishface?_ How beautifully creative.

Turning slowly, he met the annoyed, murderous face of Clarisse, and the blank, yet slightly amused gaze of Chris.

"Uh…No," Percy answered lamely. "Not at all—uh, just passing through."

"Oh, are you _bothered _by it?" she sneered.

"No—uh—"

"_Sorry _Jackson. Didn't mean to disturb your little perfect world," she grabbed Chris by the wrist and dragged him away deeper into the woods, where, Percy would rather not even wish to elaborate as to what would happen there. But before she could leave his hearing range entirely, he heard her say something like, "He's just jealous. Jackson can't seem to decide _who _he wants." And he swears he saw her turn and smile wickedly at him before completely walking away with an unfazed Chris alongside.

_Now what the Hades could she mean by that?_

Normal circumstances would have made him call out and go, "Wait—_what_?" but it was nighttime and he was tired and the other two looked so eager to continue their business, and with Clarisse being one of the two, he'd rather not push it.

As he was about to violently shake the image and noise of the grossest make out session ever, Percy heard the high-pitched sigh of a dryad close by. "_Love_," it said wistfully before completely disappearing into the trunk of a ponderosa in which it came from.

_Okay then._

Finally, after much deliberation, he had made it to the cabin, and it didn't take long for him to find the comfort of his bed, since, of course, it's really the only messy one there due to it being the only one used. _Good grief. The lonely anecdotes where just dropping from the sky tonight, weren't they?_

It's not like he had a lot to be lonely about. Unlike the first twelve years of his life, where it had usually been just him and his mother, he had friends now. And not just _hi-you're-the-kid-in-my-PE-class-that-threw-up-after-the-mile-run-and-you're-name's-like-Purse-or-something _kind of friends. The real ones, that stick with you through hell and high water (literally, in Percy's case).

So really, as far as loneliness goes, Percy hadn't been acquainted with the word for a long time.

Now…what _exactly _did Clarisse mean exactly "_decide who he wants_"? The sentence was as ludicrous as it was confusing. Just what had she meant by that?

He hadn't even bothered changing out of his jeans, and ended up just throwing his jacket on the floor before heading for the comfort of his pillows—pajamas be damned. In a matter of seconds, as though his bed sheets had magical powers, he felt himself fall asleep at once, ready for the world of no dreams and just slumber in silence.

That is, until an earsplitting scream ripped through the night air.

* * *

**(A/N): like it so far? And all you romantics out there, Percabeth is making an appearance. I swear. And uh, let's stir that up a bit, shall we? :]**

**Questions?**


	2. Panic at the Ninth Hour

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson.**

**(A/N): to im a pyro: haha. I'll keep that fire thing in mind. And thank you to the rest of my reviewers! You guys are awesome. **

**On with the story! Feel free to tell me if it starts to get boring or if you find any errors of any sort. Editing at two in the morning leaves you about as able as a senile person. **

**And I don't know about you, but I love the Stoll brothers, and I wanted to elaborate on them a bit more this time.**

* * *

**Chapter II: Panic at the Ninth Hour  
**

To say Percy awoke with a jolt was an understatement.

To say that he shot out of bed in a condition that was much like a heart attack would be dead on. _Enter, panic_.

He did not even bother to _glance _at the clock, much less process what it said. In his wake, he grabbed his jacket, slipped on his old Nikes and bolted for the outside where he found not one, not two, but a handful of kids running from the courtyard of where all the cabins met to the direction of the Big House. Over the years, the camp had has its share of blatant signs of danger. But waking up to the sound of bloody murder in the middle of the night (on a Friday for Zeus's sake) while everyone ran in one ominous direction was in a class of its own.

Soon, he found himself running alongside Malcolm, who seemed just as confused as he was. When one of Athena's kids is confused, that's usually a telltale sign that something was wrong and that you better _follow _the smart kid or you're toast.

"No idea," Malcolm replied when Percy asked him what was going on. "We were just—coming back," his explained breathily, "from—dinner. Heard a scream. Stolls ran like lightning—I'll—tell you what. They're probably inside the Big House already."

Percy glanced around to see that many had stayed back at the cabins, watching as a few others decided to see what was going on. Ahead, he could see Annabeth near the front lawn already, and Chiron, running like a bullet across the rocks and grass, already making it to the front of the house.

In times like these, Percy found the necessity of thinking pushed to the backburner, acting solely on the physical urgency, running towards something he did not know. Which is why when he was closing in, he realized that it was not _inside _the house, but at the porch, the same place he had rested his first day at camp. He pushed past the crowd of people, he had to pause for a second to absorb the horrifying scene in front of him.

There, lying on the wooden floor was Calypso, looking scared to death herself, tenderly holding a small girl, around nine, in her arms while the girl cried and screamed. But she wasn't simply crying. No, there would be less of a story here, wouldn't it—if all they found was a little girl with tears spilling down her face? The Fates couldn't have left it at that.

No. There had to be _blood_ on her hands too.

_Enter, mass frenzy._

* * *

It was around ten o'clock (an hour after they'd gotten here, he'd figured) when most of the campers were cleared from the Big House porch and sent to their cabins—though some left reluctantly. Chiron was standing at the front of the meeting room (if you call sitting in a wheelchair standing), all the counselors ready to listen (if not a little nervous).

Apparently, what Percy gathered from what the centaur was saying, was that the girl had just arrived to camp that morning, found by her satyr in west Oklahoma being attacked by hell hounds. They had safely taken her to Camp Half-Blood where she was submitted to stay in the Big House for the night because of her injuries. That's where Calypso came in.

See, Calypso had been the camp's much needed caretaker after she had been granted her freedom by the gods (thanks to Percy's plea) about a year ago. She'd only been working at the camp since the spring time as the school nurse, in layman's terms.

Though he was overjoyed at seeing her again, happy that she was given what she rightfully deserved, this had taken a strain on his and Annabeth's already rocky relationship. Why? Well, asking Percy would be as useful as asking a pair of socks (so he's heard people say about him). _Even though_ he had told Annabeth countless times that there was nothing to worry about. That he and Calypso were just _friends. _Which was true regarding the fact that Percy and Calypso barely spoke now, and even for being in the same camp, barely saw each other. She was always taking care of the sick or injured ones, or helping in Demeter's garden, or taking frequent trips back to Olympus. From time to time, he'd wonder if she'd even gone anywhere else besides the realm of the gods and the borders of the camp. Yet, whenever he found himself wanting to talk to her, he'd see her busy at work, or talking to someone else (usually a guy, they flock all over her) something inside him would choke up and tell him to runaway. He didn't know if it was cowardice or something else.

Considering his experience with girls, it was probably cowardice.

When Chiron began to speak, he had looked over to Calypso who was sitting at his side, and Percy briefly made the mistake of making eye contact with her, before he revert his eyes to somewhere else. _Say, the wall?_ To make matters worse, he could feel Annabeth's grey eyes burning holes in the side of his head. _The wrath of the ex/present/ex-girlfriend. Oh wonderful shit. Wonderful, wonderful—_

"I am afraid to say that we haven't the slightest as to what transpired tonight. From what Calypso has told me, Danielle McIas was treated for her injuries then laid soundly asleep outside on the porch of the house until she woke up screaming." This didn't exactly calm everyone down.

"And so what?" interjected Clarisse, standing up from her seat. Leave it to Clarisse to yell at the wise-million-year-old centaur. She turned to Calypso. "Maybe _you _didn't bandage her up right!_ That's _she woke up screaming—scaring us all half to—"

_The nerve of this girl. I swear..._

"Clarisse, _please_—" started Chiron but the room quickly filled with murmurs. Percy glanced around to see the worried/puzzled faces of the cabin leaders all turning their heads to glance at Calypso, who just sat there with her hands in her lap, blood stains on her dress from holding Danielle. In the corner, the Stoll brothers seemed like they wanted to shrink away.

As Percy was about to stand up and probably say (shout) some very regrettable things to Clarisse (he very much wanted to), Calypso started to speak.

"I wish that were the case," she said, looking up at Clarisse, drained and sad. "But the fact of the matter is the blood on her hands was not her own, nor was it anyone else's here—that we know of."

"Yeah," drawled Jake Mason. "So anyone here who was clawed by some ten year old, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Clarisse turned to him. "Shut up, you little—"

"Clarisse!" called Annabeth. "_Yelling _at people won't help the matter _at all _so maybe _you _should shut up."

Percy couldn't believe his ears. Okay, well, maybe he could, a little. His ears never really lied to him before. But Annabeth telling Clarisse to shut up was just asking for girl war.

"Annabeth—" Chiron started, but he was again cut off. Really, at this point, you had to feel sorry for the guy who was trying to keep everyone calm, only to get overmatched by two teenage girls. Sometimes, Percy found himself in the same situations. Whoever said that being a teenage boy was the coolest thing in the world was obviously very insane.

"Oh!" Clarisse feigned injury. "Sorry little miss smarty—"

Before he could control what he was doing, Percy found himself standing up, his voice booming. "Will you shut _up _Clarisse! Can't we get on with this meeting without you lashing out at _everyone_?"

Annabeth looked up at him, her expression between surprise and gratitude. The room fell into a brief silence. _You know—the kind of silence that you hear before you die._ Maybe yelling at Clarisse wasn't the wrong move. But it was a bad one. It was in these times of molten anger did Percy really see the family resemblance between the god of war and his demigod daughter.

Did he mention that that wasn't a good thing?

Lately, Percy and Clarisse had been getting along better than usual—which was saying a lot when the actual standard for usual was taken into consideration for this special case. They had come to respect each other, he'll say that much. He didn't underestimate her and she would barely question his actions. But once in a while, they'd tick each other off, and now Percy could see that she was definitely in no mood to stay nice and scatter flowers all over his head. Maybe his death bed…but that was a dim matter he'd rather not imagine. Thinking of her, it reminded him of what she had said earlier that night. Something about not being able to know who he wants.

Don't even get him started on that. He doesn't even know.

But, thank the gods, before Mount Clarisse could erupt into full on destruction, Chiron had spoke. "Fighting," his voice boomed, "will _not_ get us to absolution. Miss La Rue, my dear, I put enough trust in Calypso's medicinal skill to the point that arguing that Miss McIas not being bandaged properly seems preposterous."

Percy could agree with this based on experience, but something gave him the feeling that Annabeth would shoot more burning holes in his head if he spoke, remembering the time when she realized he had stayed on Calypso's island about two years ago and Annabeth had gone into this _fit _when she found out. So he stayed quiet. Across the table, he could see Clarisse glaring at him like she was a wolf and he was a tiny flea. At this rate, the burning holes people were figuratively shooting at his head would shrivel him to a crisp before they got to the bottom of this.

"I _did_ get to speak to Miss McIas after the incident," Chiron continued, bringing Percy back to the present. "And I assure you that it was, as Calypso said, not her own blood in her hands. You see, what makes this so—startling—and alarming is what Miss McIas had told me herself. She had a dream. Or a nightmare, I should say."

A dream? A _nightmare_? Okay. So those were normal things for a demigod. He could tell everyone else in the room was taking this into consideration. But how could something as common like that cause something...well, something like this?

"Wait, what do you mean, a _dream_?" asked Percy, who seemed to say what everyone else had on their minds.

"Percy's right," Katie said. "How can that little girl get someone else's blood when all she did was fall asleep?"

Around the room, the verbal lines of _I don't get it _and _What does that mean _and _I've never woken up from a nightmare like that_ filled in the remaining sound capacity.

Percy and Annabeth met eyes, gravely, while everyone looked to Chiron in deep confusion and horror, even though, Percy could tell, for the latter, they did not know exactly _why_ they were horrified. For a few moments, the meeting room seemed to float stilly in speechlessness. Everyone looked at each other, wanting to say something, argue on the matter, but couldn't.

That's when Connor Stoll stood up from his chair, a solemn shadow in his eyes.

* * *

"Travis and I, we were in here earlier," Connor admitted. "We uh, well—"

"We were planning a prank," interjected Travis, who was still looking at the table top as his brother stood. Percy had never seen them so…_down_. If you could count on anyone being lighthearted, even in the face of grimness, it was the Stoll brothers. And now—well now, it looked like they'd just seen a ghost.

Oh, the irony of what he didn't know just yet.

"We were in the supply cabinet, while Calypso was in the garden and Argus was at the front porch, so that, no one would see us you know," Travis continued, looking apologetically at Chiron, who just nodded his head slightly like, _continue and if you're story is any good you won't get horse manure duty for a week_. Apparently, Travis took this as so and kept talking "Then we heard this noise upstairs and—"

"We decided to ignore it at first," said Connor. "Well, _he _decided to ignore it, but me—I just wanted to get out of there. It was giving me the spooks, you know—"

"So then we got what we came for, but we kept hearing the noise, and well—"

"We decided to go see what it was."

* * *

_They slowly crept out of the hallway of the medicine supply closet and were now near the main room of the Big House. Past the room, and through the window, they could see someone outside on the bench of the porch. A small girl. Probably a new demigod or something. Whoever she was, the Stolls did not pay much attention to her. Sooner or later, she would probably end up staying in the Hermes cabin if she wasn't claimed._

_Instead of leaving, through the back as they had initially planned, they had fell into the deep chasm of wanting-to-know, racing up the stairs, thinking that the noise would at least be on the second floor. But when they got there, they realized that the noise continued above them. _

"_I think it's up there," said Connor, pointing to the highest ceiling._

"_The attic?" said Travis, his voice shook with awe._

_That's where the old Oracle stayed—the shriveled up one that had shown up at a capture-the-flag match three years ago by the creek. Creepy thing it was. But for the Stoll Brothers, it had been their first time seeing her, never having the need to go up to the attic and ask. And now that the old skeleton was no longer the Oracle, there was no need to go up there anymore._

_Unless of course, you were curious._

_Thump. Thump._

_It was like an eerie heart of the house, and as the brothers got closer to the entrance of the attack, it become more urgent, the beat faster._

"_Pull on that thing!" one of them said as the other held onto the chain hanging from the ceiling, pulling on it as it revealed a set of stairs that extended from the ceiling to the floor of the third story of the Big House._

_Small traces of dust parted the way. Travis and Connor found themselves just staring at the steps into the dark room above._

"_After you," Connor suggested._

_Travis rolled his eyes and started walking up the flight first, Connor only steps behind him. As they entered, the noise grew louder, and they saw shelves and boxes, old antiques of yesteryears and adventures of demigods before them. There were swords, chests, orbs, and other things they didn't know the names of, many of them labeled with names and dates._

"_Look at this!" Travis said, pointing to a vase that was covered in drawings of war scenes. Connor was about to look at it, but then the knocking noise had started again and they soon forgot about all the interesting devices around them and concentrated on finding the source of the noise._

_Turning behind a shelf, they saw on the farthest corner of the attic was a glowing, silvery orb. Not glowing like a light bulb was inside, but glowing like a silver ghost was swimming within the glass sphere, except now it was rocking the orb, like it was trying to break out, hitting itself almost rhythmically against the wall, knocking other trinkets down from the shelves. It was only now they noticed how many objects around it had fallen on the floor._

"_What is it?" Connor said softly. "Is it—is it _alive_?"_

_Travis inched closer towards it. "Dunno, but—"_

_Before he could finish his thought, the orb seemed to grow vigorous, almost angry, and with a final ram towards the wall, fell off the shelf. The eerie knocking noise subsided, in its place a brief sound of shattered glass as it plummeted to the floor._

_For a minute nothing happened. The silvery light from the orb merely vanished. It didn't smoke into the air, or turn into a monster. All that was left of the noisemaker was broken glass on an attic floor. The glow merely…switched off. As easily as the lights switch off in your room, as easily as the power button to a TV._

_The brothers took careful steps backwards. _

"_For a minute there," Travis said, "I thought it was going to explode or something."_

"_Uh, let's not stick around to see if it does."_

"_Whatever it is, we might get in trouble for being up here, so—"_

"_Yeah…Let's bolt."_

_Without another word, the brothers dashed like madmen out of the attic, down the stairs, shut the attic door back up, closed, and ran all the way down the steep stairs of the Big House, out the back door, and retreated all the way back to the cabin area. Empty, while everyone else was near the woods and creek, busy with capture-the-flag._

* * *

Upon hearing their story, Percy did not know what to think (does he ever?) and glanced at Chiron, whom he had never seen look so pale.

"Travis, Connor," he said seriously, looking them straight in the eye without even blinking. "Did you, by chance, happen to see what this orb was labeled before it broke?"

They shook their heads.

Without another word, Chiron left the meeting room, the cabin leaders right behind him until they got to the first flight of the stairs. He glanced at Percy and the rest of them a little sadly, if not a little embarassed. "As you see, I am not permitted to climb these stairs," he said (ergo his bedroom was on the first floor) "so you're going to have to take the trip up there without me. Go into the attic," he instructed, "retrieve the label and bring it back down here."

Percy was about to, and he saw Annabeth was going to as well, but Katie Gardner beat him to it. Only, what she said wasn't exactly what Percy had predicted. She didn't volunteer herself. "I volunteer Travis and Connor Stoll," she announced. Everyone looked at her. "They're the ones who saw it, weren't they? They should be the ones to go up there and see what the stupid label says."

It was no newsflash that Katie especially despised the Stolls ever since after the whole Easter Bunny shenanigan a while ago. What could Percy say? She knew how to hold a grudge and obviously didn't care if some silver-orb-ghost went and ate them alive.

"No way!" objected Travis. "I am _not _going up there again. You'll have to slap me on the ass and call me Sally before you get me up _there_."

Wordless was Connor, but Percy could tell he was thinking the same thing as his brother. It was clear that, in the years he had known them, Percy and just about everyone knew that Travis was the leader in this pair.

Finally, someone spoke—or, at least, _two _someones.

"I'll go," Annabeth and Calypso said in unison, although it was clear they had not planned it that way. You could cut the tension with a celestial bronze blade and it still wouldn't tear. Percy saw the heated look in their eyes and decided to step in.

"I'll do it," he said with a semi-touch of finality. The cabin leaders looked at the three of them like it was a sitcom. Or a soap opera.

"Whatever's up there," Calypso warned, "it's essence may or not still be prominent. I'll go."

"I'm still going up there," Percy said, like she could've said _there's a ten headed dragon with a machine gun for a tail _and he still would've went.

"Oh no you don't," Annabeth said, and suddenly Percy realized how strange things were about to get. "You're not gonna accidentally get your head fried or get eaten by a ghost. I'm coming with you!"

"Then I guess all three of you are going!" yelled an exasperated Clarisse. "Get a move on it, will ya? Before whatever it is up there explodes or something."

There were mild snickers from the cabin leaders as the three of them stared at each other uncomfortably (before Chiron gave them that _expectant _look that clearly said _you better get a-hauling and put aside your petty arguements before we all DIE_. Or something along those lines).

"Well?" Chiron said carefully.

Without another second, Calypso sighed edgily and muttered, "This is childish," and began climbing up the stairs. Annabeth rolled her eyes and followed suite, having to drag Percy by the wrist the first few steps since he'd just stood there, dumbfounded.

Before they even got to the second floor, he could already tell that maybe—just maybe—this wasn't a good idea.

Glancing back at his friends on the first floor, their stifled laughter and smug smiles only validated this thought.

Oh, lord Zeus, what _was _he in for?

* * *

**(A/N): Oh and, on Calypso, I thought it'd be natural for her, after earning her freedom, to go and help out at camp, after the whole battle and everything, that place is gonna need all the assistance it can get. She will get explained later. I just thought it'd be too much to try to cramp while there's this other matter at hand.**

**I know many of you are not fans of her, but bear with me. I think she's cool.**

**Did you like it? Hate it? Tell me :) i think the Calypso thing was a little out of nowhere, but don't worry. it'll be explained in due time.**


	3. Searching in the Dark for Broken Glass

**Chapter III: Searching in the Dark for Broken Glass**

There were about a million things Percy could think of that he'd rather be doing than this.

One: eating tarantulas

Two: wrestling with a slimy giant

Three: listening to Apollo's sonnets on repeat

And, well, the list goes on and on.

But no. Instead here he was, traveling to the attic where there was probably a monster that was going to eat them, with two girls who hate each other and—sometimes it seems—him. (Alas, dear Percy has not figured out _why_ yet, bless his soul). And if you're Percy Jackson, you know you're not one for a conversation starter. But you try anyway.

In the creaking quiet of footsteps on floorboards, Percy glances at Annabeth and Calypso, who are walking at least five feet apart while he lags behind them.

"So …" _So? So what? _What was Percy supposed to say? _'How 'bout them Yankees?' _

Dead. Silence. Calypso and Annabeth stare at him like they're expecting him to grow five noses.

"...Nothing."

Here, kids, is where Percy mentally clubs himself half to death for being so stupid.

Annabeth was always shooting him those looks. Those '_you are so idiotic it makes me want to hit something'_ kind of expressions that just make him feel even stupider than before. She had a way of doing that. Sweet, sweet Annabeth.

But that was part of her charm, he guesses. If she wasn't so smart, she'd probably have to depend on her looks (which had grown to a lot, by the way, since they were twelve). No longer was she the annoying girl with tangled blond hair and the snarky comebacks (_well_, the snarky comeback parts were still there) but, now, she had definitely developed into a very beautiful young woman. Tall, blonde, perfectly tan, not to mention incredibly smart. He was so lucky to have called her his girlfriend.

Key-fucking-word. _Was_.

They had started out brilliantly. In the midst of a war over and a new beginning, their time together for the past couple years had created this bond between them—like having their shoelaces tied together, and when the balance goes off, one of them falls.

For a long time coming, it seemed only expected that they would start dating soon. After years of mindless denial, they were finally a couple. And no one but Athena seemed to mind.

Indeed, even though they were currently broken up (how long that would last, only time would tell), he'd never forget the feeling of wanting _her _safe, making sure _she _was alive while, it seemed, everything around him was dying.

Things didn't get very unstable until school started again. They lived on opposite sides of the country and she was always busy rebuilding Olympus. Sure, they'd call each other and visit on break, but Percy realized that keeping in touch with a friend over the year was different than keeping in touch with a girlfriend.

Shit, don't ask him why. It just was.

* * *

**Months earlier**

_He had just arrived back from school, only having enough time to throw his backpack by the foyer wall and get a glass of water before the phone rang. _

_Usually, his mom would answer the phone, but today she was not even in town due to her book tour that had started a week ago. At the moment, Mrs. Blofis (he still wasn't used to the name) was in Philadelphia, doing whatever it is authors do on a book tour—really, she had explained what happens before she left, but Percy's ADHD kicked in whenever people decided to explain things. Hence his school grades._

_And Paul was still at school, tutoring some kids, and he had told Percy to go ahead home. Here he was._

_He picked up the phone. "Hello?"_

"_Hey Seaweed Brain."_

_He almost dropped the glass of water in his hands. "Oh—hey—Annabeth. What's," his brain was moving at a thousand miles per hour, "cracking?"_

_She didn't say anything for a while and Percy could guess she was internally making fun of his stuttering stupidity. "Cracking?" she laughed. "Honestly Percy, three months without me and already your vocabulary skills have worsened."_

"_Hey! Don't be mean." When in actuality, he'll admit, her teasing was a little intriguing._

"_Just kidding Kelp-head. Anyway, how are you?"_

"_Good. Rachel almost started spewing prophecies in the middle of Physics. Pulled her out of class all of a sudden. People, uh, think we have a thing…"_

_He was expecting to explode. "Rachel," she said simply. Ever since last year's Titan debacle, and Rachel's transformation into the Oracle, she and Annabeth had been getting along better and no longer held each other in contempt. But he could tell that Annabeth was not all thumbs-up about people thinking he and Rachel had 'a thing.'_

_Maybe he _shouldn't _have mentioned the story, but Percy was never known for thinking much before he spoke._

_Of course, after making that deal last summer, Rachel's father had been adamant of her to attend that Clarion joint for the remainder of high school. Except that was before she became the Oracle. In her new situation, she had realized that it was probably best to stay close to camp and even though New Hampshire was not so far away, staying at Goode seemed the right thing to do. Percy didn't disagree. He just didn't know how she managed to pull that over with her crazy, socially elite family. He'd yet to ask her about that._

"_Kids at school don't believe I have a girlfriend," he suddenly blurted as if this fact would make her any happier. To his surprise, it did._

"_Ha, what?"_

"_Yeah. I showed them a picture of you. They said no way. I'm one of those losers, you know? The one that always goes 'I have a girlfriend' and when people ask who she is, I say that you go to another school—but in this case you don't even live on the same side of the country, which makes me even more of a loser…"_

_Her laughter filled the telephone call and he found that he was smiling despite himself._

"_That brings me to what I was going to ask you about," she said. "What do you think of me coming down there at Thanksgiving break?"_

"_To—to see me?"_

"_No. To see the Macy's Parade. Yes to see you."_

"_I think that's awesome." He really did. He thought they were having problems before school commenced again, but her visiting here next week could definitely fix that._

"_Ask your mom before you agree." _

"_You sound like a teacher. My mom isn't here. She won't care though. She likes you." He knew that would have made Annabeth smile. It was true enough. His mom adored Annabeth, and if he didn't know any better, she was already planning their wedding and naming his kids._

Thanks Mom.

"_Alright then, Seaweed Brain. If you say so. Thanksgiving. It's a date."_

_They were going to have a date with a roasted turkey, his parents, and possibly his Uncle Gideon. Ideal. So ideal._

"_Sure is," he said._

* * *

"Here we are," Calypso said, almost to herself. And, as a minor surprise to Percy, she pulled on the chain to the door of the attic. A surprise, because, well, height-wise, compared to him, Calypso had to tip toe to even reach his forehead (where, he blushes, she had kissed him once almost two years ago). She must have used some godly (goddessly?) power or something to reach it.

The stairs came unraveling down, revealing the dank, dark attic.

Without another word, the girls walked up before he could even get on the first step.

"Ladies first," Percy muttered to himself.

When he got to the top, he saw Calypso and Annabeth just standing there. Of course, it was a dark room and they _were _up here in the middle of the night, but he could have never thought of these two as the scared-of-the-dark types. It wasn't until he had fully walked into the attic beside them did he realize why.

He stepped into the attic and he felt…_cold_.

Not just that, but something in the back of his mind was panicking—like fear was knocking at his skull. He hadn't felt like that since he'd encountered Phobos not too long ago.

Judging from Annabeth's and Calypso's expressions, they were feeling the same thing.

"I don't remember this place giving me this much of the creeps," Annabeth said. "Dammit. I wish I had _something_ with me—"

"It wouldn't matter," Calypso surveyed the attic, as if something was whispering to her what was inside. "Whatever's up here can't be pierced with a blade—"

"I _know_ that," Annabeth grumbled. "I was just saying—"

"Alright!" Percy exclaimed—which was probably dangerous, but... "Okay. We're here for some stupid label remember?"

They were probably glaring at each other again, but Percy didn't want to get into that now. He just wanted to get _out_.

For a while, the anxiety that reached all three corners of the living in this room seemed to set aside to the backburner—at least for the moment. It didn't help that the attic was as expansive as the house it was set on top of and that the shelves were never-ending.

He didn't remember feeling so lost in the attic before, mainly because whatever he needed up here was always near the entrance and never hard to find (decayed, cursed mummies are usually very noticeable). But now that they were searching for broken glass on the floor, with the only lighting coming from the single dim bulb at the center of the attic and the leaking of moonbeams through the window, everything was just a little more difficult.

At one point, he must've gone in circles or something because he ended up bumping into Calypso somewhere along the way.

"Um—I—uh, sorry about that."

"It's alright," she said. "Oh, I—well I didn't get to…I just wanted to say, happy late birthday."

He gulped. It had been yesterday. "Thanks." There had been endless amounts of chocolate cake. A few presents. A phonecall from his mom. Grover took time off his busy "important satyr" schedule just to join in the celebration. Even Annabeth had decided that his birthday was to be a neutral day. Then here she was today like yesterday wasn't fun. Girls were strange.

However, he did notice that he hadn't seen Calypso that day. Not that he was expecting her to. Okay, maybe he was. And maybe he was just a _little _disappointed. _What was keeping her anyway? _Percy knew it was slightly petty to even think such things. Yet he realized just how much he wanted to know the answer.

She looked down. "And…Perseus?"

He felt frozen in place. Hardly anyone called him that. "Y-yeah?" _Smooth, sailor. Smooth. _Unintentionally, he had started looking at her face, enough to realize he hadn't really _looked _at her in a very long time. Even in the darkness, she was as stunning as he remembered.

If not a little more sad.

* * *

"_That's a mighty beautiful girl you have there, Percy, m'boy." Uncle Gideon was a burly man and so when he slapped Percy on the back as a sign of congratulations, Percy almost choked up the pounds of turkey, cranberry sauce, and mashed potatoes he had devoured twenty minutes ago. _

_Across the room were Annabeth and his mom talking. They were laughing at some girl joke, probably, and Paul was busy trying to get the cable to work._

_When she had brought up the idea of coming over for Thanksgiving, he had asked if her family was okay with that. She had gotten quiet, and even over the phone, he could tell she was frowning._

"_They're going to my stepmom's relatives place in LA. I—well, I didn't think I'd fit in there and being so close to Hades, I'm pretty sure having monsters attack during Thanksgiving won't exactly be one for the scrapbooks," she had told him._

_Although he felt sorry for her, he couldn't help but feel glad that she was here now. His mom desperately needed some female company while having to put up with two silly males everyday. Plus, he hadn't seen Annabeth since camp was over, and even then, she was always busy with Olympus blueprints that he didn't see her as much as he wanted._

"_Yeah," he told Uncle Gideon, staring at Annabeth's lean, tall figure, her blonde locks that was in a ponytail today, and her silver owl earrings. "I know." He saw the emptiness in his glass and decided he wanted more soda. "Excuse me," he said before retreating into the kitchen._

_There, he had come across the desired liter of Coke on the counter and started filling his cup. He was about to leave, when he passed by the window._

_The one with the moonlace in the garden box._

_He didn't know why, but he felt the urge to be near it. He opened the window, letting into the cold New York autumn air and the fragrance of the mystical flower._

_It calmed him down every single time. Even when he thought he couldn't be more relaxed, the moonlace had done something to him that felt like all his muscles turned to cool water and untied the knots in his mind._

_But then it would turn around and make him feel hopelessly sad. Because, well, in truth, the memory of leaving a kind, beautiful girl on the shores of a phantom island wasn't the most cheery thing to look back on._

_Many nights after that fateful event almost two years ago, he let thoughts of Calypso slip back into his mind—telling himself that if things were different…Well, like what? Like if the weight of the world didn't dance on his shoulders? No kidding._

_But it wasn't different. And this is how things came to end. All he could hope for her was that the gods listened to him and set her free._

_Just as he caught himself staring absentmindedly at the plant, a human form that looked much like a supermodel materialized outside the window. _What the—

_"Why hello Percy."_

_He gritted his teeth and tried to hide his displeasure. "Aphrodite."_

_Perfect timing. Just so. Damn. Perfect._

* * *

When he looked at her, he realized she was staring at the floor and decided to look down himself—only now noticing that he had stepped on a pile a small piece of glass and that between him and Calypso were bigger broken shards.

"Oh…" he blurted lamely.

Annabeth came from around the corner. "Percy, I don't know if I found the—" she paused at the sight of them then crossed her arms. Calypso looked at him pointedly.

Percy felt sharp, hot needles poking his neck. He bent down to the shards of glass and picked up a golden plaque label. "I think we found it."

"Let me see it," said Annabeth.

He was about to hand it to her when they felt a jagged coldness pass through the room. Percy felt himself starting to get sleepy which was odd, since even though it was getting close to a late night, he had been wide awake just moments before.

"On second thought," Annabeth regressed cautiously. "Let's read it once we get back downstairs."

He looked at Calypso, who, for once, seemed to agree with something Annabeth was saying. A rarity, and probably the last time. "We must get out of here quickly," she said, scanning the attic once again with a quick glance before heading hurriedly back to the stairs.

Downstairs, they found Chiron was staring into the faces of the cabin leaders, who were talking amongst themselves. Some had gone to bed already, complaining that they felt the fatigue at night take a hold on them, so now there were only a few kids in the Big House. All that was left were Clarisse, Jake, a few counselors from the minor gods' cabins, Pollux (whom Percy was surprised to see since the kid was in love with sleep as much as he was in love with food), Travis and Connor, and Will Solace, who, Percy noticed, hadn't spoken all night.

Which was probably Will's nature. He was a very reserved kid, compared to the adrenaline-packed campers who were always loud and hooting and ready for action. If anything, Will was the best healer at camp, behind Calypso (did it count that she had been healing for eons?) and had always kept himself at ease behind a book.

He's one of those guys that don't have girlfriends because he was too smart for it. Percy would have thought that he'd be Athena's kid rather than Apollo's. It was strange to think that this proper, intellectual kid was the son of such a—well, Percy didn't want to say _hip _to describe Apollo, but something along those lines.

"What does it say?" asked Jane Slater, a counselor from the Nemesis cabin.

_What did it say_? Bashfully, Percy realized he hadn't even looked at the thing. He was too busy being scared out of his mind from the attic and too busy with the thought of Calypso and Annabeth as they hurried in front of him.

He noticed that all the campers were looking at him expectantly as he reluctantly read the label. Being dyslexic, it was rather a hard task since there seemed to be so many words.

"Ah, let smarty read it, you dweeb," said Clarisse. He would've yelled at her, or at least glared, but she was right. Annabeth had better control of her dyslexia than he did. He handed it to her. She looked over it slowly and then began to read:

"Here in this o—orb is the captured spear—_spirit_ of Epiales," she paused, and looked up at Chiron, a question on her face. "Samuel Shailey…Larry Strait, Polly Goldstein…John Lisbon August 19…1979."

Percy felt a strange turning in his gut. Today's date. Only thirty years ago.

A shadow passed over Chiron's face. "Just as I thought."

He looked to Annabeth whose eyebrows were furrowed, like she was trying to remember something. Calypso was still next to him and had proceeded to bring her fingers to her lips, a contemplative look on her face as well. Faintly, he heard her say, in a soft voice, as she glanced down at the stories below and turned back to Chiron. "But, then—it explains everything."

Chiron nodded. "Indeed, it does."

"What explains everything?" Percy found himself asking. Calypso looked at him and then back at the plaque in Annabeth's hands.

"_Captured spirit of Epiales—_" Annabeth began, rereading it as though she couldn't believe it the first time.

"Epiales?" Jake Mason muttered. "Who's that?"

Meanwhile, beside Jake, Pollux's faced turned frigid. "My—my father told me about him," he said shakily. "He's…he's…"

"He's _what_?" Clarisse asked, who, despite her tough façade, seemed even a bit shakenjust by looking at Pollux's expression. Whatever it was, it must be notably scary considering the kid's dad was Dionysus—who, in Percy's mind, could make the Boogie Man cry with his dry, cynical humor.

Chiron closed his eyes for a brief moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. Percy almost didn't want to know. He looked at Annabeth who probably knew what was going on now that she'd heard the name. She was like a Greek Myth encyclopedia. But later would find that Calypso would be the one to answer everybody's question.

He turned his gaze to said girl, who was by the railing, watching Danielle sit on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, unable to sleep.

"_Epiales_," Calypso began, as if to say _of course_. "I should have known. The God of Nightmares."

* * *

**(A/N): Third chapter. I know I created many openings of confusion. It's intentional. It's very percabeth centric for now. but no fear. perlypso fans, how ever few, will get your desserts.**

**sorry to spring these random flashbacks on you. but they're necessary and if you don't agree, well, we'lll just have to see about that, won't we? :)**

**Questions feel free to ask away...or point out any mistakes or annoying turns in the plot. i hope i've kept everything in character. i'm trying to stick with canon as much as my memory allows. believe me, squeezing in all the new people is my weakness.**

**And thank you reviewers. you guys rock! and do not fret. Grover will make an appearance sooner or later. what kind of Percy Jackson story would this be if he didn't?**


End file.
